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Winter 9 Fourth Age 1430 Shire-reckoning 
the ashes of a black sleep scatter fell {{ WORDS on {{ HOWLING winds |
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We have lots of fun community activities for the month of December. |
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| (( ultraviolet )) light my way; [ Erchirion & Elliriel ] | |
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| Topic Started: Oct 29 2009, 03:00 PM (73 Views) | |
| heatherbee. | Oct 29 2009, 03:00 PM Post #1 |
Andrea's Grasshopper
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Wandering far on little used paths, Erchirion pondered the many tidings he had received since his return to Gondor. Morion had escaped his prison cell. Esril had recovered and departed the city. Edoras had been attacked by the enemy. Wraiths had returned to the West. Eowyn was with child. It was almost too much for one mind to comprehend. In the few months he had been at sea and in Arnor, the balance had shifted in favor of the enemy. The happy cocoon that had enveloped him since he reunited with Gwenneth had dissolved almost overnight. His Lady had departed, and with her went the joy and love that had shaped him into a new man. He was, once again, Erchirion – the thorny prince. It was a harsh reminder that only transformation of self was permanent; changing for another’s benefit never lasted. Like a landlubber walking onto his deck, Erchirion was struggling to find his footing. It was always this way when he returned from a voyage. His brothers knew their places. Elphir was forever stationed at father’s right hand, and Amrothos drifted as he saw fit. Not Erchirion. His life was an ever shifting wave upon the ocean. In his absence, the tide had washed away all his duties. Being trapped inside his own mind, Erchirion did not realize how far from Emyn Arnen he had strayed. The Steward’s House was well behind him, but he continued walking unawares further and further into the forest. The Prince was not so lost to himself, however, that he failed to detect the presence of another. He was rattled to realize how far from the city he had strayed and that he did not know the way back. More immediate, however, was his unseen company. Thinking he had stumbled into the patrol of Faramir’s Rangers, he quickly made a greeting, lest they mistake him for an Orc and riddle him with arrows. “Greetings! I am a friend. My name is Erchirion of Dol Amroth.” There. Perhaps if they disbelieved he was a friend, they would at least hesitate before shooting someone claiming to be a Prince of Gondor and cousin to their Prince Faramir. |
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| SILVERLODE | Nov 2 2009, 07:05 AM Post #2 |
LORIEN CHILD*
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When one wakes with an unusual sense of adventure in the morning, one must feed it like a hunger. For the little brunette who slipped silently out of her bed, this was a daily occurrence, one she often fed rather than ignored. With a soft smile the human woman collected herself, throwing her green riding gown on and tossing her brown curls down her shoulders. Although she had been raised among the elves and taught their methods of attire and beauty, Ellriel was nowhere near as beautiful as any elf and had ceased trying many years ago. Her footsteps were swift and gentle as she stepped through the city, her brown eyes gazing at the folk she passed. Her smile always remained as she found her way to the stables, where her fine pure white steed awaited her happily. Galad had always been by the young woman's side, and had always been faithful. He was her greatest friend who had seen her ups and downs, and had stood faithful all the while. Elliriel often wondered if men were as capable to be loyal as horses, for Elliriel knew the latter breed better than the former. That was why she as here, learning, seeking, always discovering something new from these people. Today was like most days for her, she woke with the urge to go out and set forth, to learn from the earth and its men. And that's exactly what she planned to do. Hopping on her steed, Elliriel raced off to a place she had yet to know, Ithilien, were rangers resided. She had heard tale of them, and wanted to discover the place for herself on this fine day. Her green skirts tumbled careless down Galad's white back, while her curls bounced with every trot. Strapped to her hip was her elven sword, a gift from the Galadriel. With thoughts of home residing in her mind, the young woman forgot her place, until a masculine voice rang through the trees in the not-so-far distance. “Greetings! I am a friend. My name is Erchirion of Dol Amroth.” The prince? Elliriel had not had the pleasure of meeting this man, but had heard much talk of him. Calm and quite serious they had said, not the type to like a person as adventurous and giddy as Elliriel. But who knew what this man would think of her, who knew how he would react to her. Galad's hooves stepped quietly through the trees, revealing just a man atop his horse. "My prince! A friend I am as well, fresh from Gondor I ride." she smiled, her teeth showing from beneath her rosy lips. "I am Elliriel, sire." |
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| heatherbee. | Nov 3 2009, 03:50 PM Post #3 |
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Andrea's Grasshopper
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Erchirion’s brow furrowed. He had been snuck up on by a woman on a horse? That did nothing to improve his somewhat dark mood. How lost in his thoughts he must have been. He, a man of Numenorean and distant Elven descent, with all the heightened senses that gave him, had been snuck up on by a woman on a horse! “Greetings, Elliriel,” he returned. “You may want to put bells on your horse’s bridle. You never know what Ranger patrol you might stumble upon in these woods.” Still chagrined, Erchirion offered the woman no smile or overture of friendliness. That he recognized his own aloofness disconcerted him. He had not used to notice the way he spoke to others. The Prince did not like the way he sounded. It reminded him too much of his uncle Denethor – proud, reproachful, haughty. Making an effort to correct his demeanor, Erchirion searched for some topic that might cease to put him in a foul mood. At last, his eyes found her horse. He was not particularly fond of the animals (something which he would never say to Eomer or Eowyn), though his warhorse Myrnen was a loyal companion. “That is a fine steed you have. Is he Rohirric? My own horse, Myrnen, was bred there and one of the few black stallions not stolen by Mordor. It was a battle to get Theodred to sell him to me.” Finally, a smile broke across Erchirion’s lips. It pulled and stretched the angry scar across his face. “I won the battle, but at triple the usual price.” |
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| SILVERLODE | Nov 11 2009, 06:05 PM Post #4 |
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LORIEN CHILD*
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Elliriel was not getting a warm welcome from this Prince. However, this didn't come as a shock to the young woman, who had heard tales of this man from the men and women of Gondor. To say the least, Prince Erchirion was not the most cheerful of men in Gondor. Elliriel remained her smiling and cheerful self, her attitude not willing to change due to the very noticeable chagrin of the man before her. Perhaps he was disappointed in her entrance, or the fact that he was no longer alone. Or perhaps, he was simply frustrated that a woman had sneaked upon him. "A fine idea sire," Elliriel chuckled, her brown eyes stealing a glance through the area surrounding them. He was right, if she wasn't careful, she could end upon the rangers, and that was a confrontation she wasn't willing to deal with. "I often forget how softly Galad here can move!" she replied kindly, her demeanor remaining the same. Her ears and eyes perked at the talk of horses, one of her favorite creatures of Middle Earth. Elliriel patted her friend as she smiled over to the man before her, who refused to let down his dark mood. "Ah, no sire, Galad here is from Lorien, he was a gift from the elves." she smiled, seeing the Prince's mood change at the words of challenge and victory. That was a man for you, always pleased with the more physical side of life. "You're horse is one of a kind sire, truly. I cannot blame you for spending triple the price for him!" she smiled, gazing back and forth at their steeds. Pure black and pure white, how odd. Elliriel tried not to make comparisons between master and horse, laughing the thoughts off and looking back to the man. "May I inquire as to why I might stumble upon you in such a place?" she asked, shy and polite but her curiosity seeping through. She had the curiosity of a child, and there was no denying that. |
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| heatherbee. | Nov 14 2009, 09:10 PM Post #5 |
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Andrea's Grasshopper
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“Lorien?” Erchirion returned, genuinely surprised. He had not heard of the Lorien Elves trading with Gondorians. It took a moment for him to register that she had called the horse a gift. Clearing his throat, he adjusted his attitude towards Elliriel. She clearly was more than just another subject of Gondor. “It is said that Elvish horses can understand speech and follow commands without need for bridle. I do not know if this is fact or myth.” Erchirion approached the white horse slowly, making an effort to calm the animal with his body language. He took note of the differences between Galad and Myrnen. Both were bred for long travel and battle, but they were as different as a broadsword from a scimitar. “I …” Elliriel’s question caught him off guard. He was accustomed to people knowing him well enough to not ask personal questions if they didn’t want a sharp retort. Except Amrothos, who took great pleasure in needling his older brother. “… I was thinking about the future.” |
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edge created by tiptopolive of ifsz
Graphics by heatherbee. Small buttons by Tue.
Graphics by heatherbee. Small buttons by Tue.
